


A Hard Day’s Night

by Multiple_Universes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A Hard Day’s Night AU, Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Fluff, M/M, Movie AU, One Shot, Pining, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Romantic Comedy, The Beatles AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 05:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14730914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Just another day in the life of the fab four - Victor, Yuuri, Chris and Phichit. Haven't you heard of them? Their songs are famous! This time they're recording a concert for a television programme (that is, if no pranks or feelings get in the way).Based loosely on the movie "A Hard Day's Night".





	A Hard Day’s Night

**Author's Note:**

> I can't explain why exactly, but I felt like writing a band AU and thought "A Hard Day's Night" (the movie with the Beatles) would be a good starting point.

 

_“One! Two! Three! Four!”_

_A guitar solo played and thousands of screams filled the air._

 

It was just another day in the life of the world’s most popular band. Just another train ride from one city to another, where they would be filming a concert for a television programme.

You had to be living under a rock to not have heard at least one of _their_ songs, to not have heard of _them_.

Arguments broke out over which of them was the better-looking one and, if truth be told, it was a four-way split.

Do they really need an introduction? Oh alright.

Up ahead, running in the front and centre with an amused smile on his face was Victor. Right behind him was Yuuri. Phichit was next and last, but not least, was Chris.

There you go – Victor, Yuuri, Phichit and Chris. The fab four. All of them running from a big crowd of excited fans. All of them sorry they need to go. All of them incredibly talented and famous.

But wait! Where did they all go?

The fans ran around, searching frantically. How did a big crowd of people lose the quartet they were chasing? How was that even possible?

A curtain opened and there! Up ahead! Three of them were in a photo booth and, checking to see if the coast was clear, they sprinted for the train.

But where was the fourth one?

 

Screams, laughter and a train station full of all kinds of obstacles was all Yuuri was conscious of for a good half hour. His head was spinning. He almost tripped over something and wondered what it was.

He spotted the train and sped up.

Yuuri jumped on and moved out of the way to let his friends follow him.

One person got on and then another, but there was a long silence where the sound of a third person getting on was supposed to be.

Yuuri panicked. Who did they lose? How?

Phichit and Chris stood by the door, laughing.

The train started to move and Yuuri rushed to the window to look out. Where was Victor?

Someone was reading a newspaper on a bench. He lowered it and every fan in the station bolted for him. Victor rose, gave the fans a wink and boarding the train as if he had all the time in the world while the crowd fell in on itself – half the fans had fainted at the sight of that wink.

“Really, Victor!” Yuuri protested as he pulled Victor onboard. “Was that necessary?”

Victor grinned. “Not at all, but it was a bit of a lark. Then again, the trick with the photo booth wasn’t necessary either.” He nodded at Chris and Phichit. “Why don’t we find a seat?”

Knowing there was no arguing with Victor, Yuuri followed.

The train was full of people. Several of them looked ready to melt as soon as they saw _who_ was on the train with them.

They nodded and smiled politely and kept going.

The best they could find was a compartment with a stern-looking gentleman. He was reading a newspaper when the boys came in and made a great show of not raising his eyes.

Yuuri threw an uneasy look at this man as everyone took their seats. Maybe it would be fine, he told himself. It was just a one-hour ride.

Victor sat down across from him with a smile and Yuuri knew it would be as far from fine as possible.

All they managed to do was get in a polite “hello”, before it started.

The man rose to his feet and closed the window.

“Do you mind if we have it open?” Victor asked, getting ready to open it again.

“Yes I do.”

“Yeah, but we want it open and there’s four of us,” Victor pointed out. “That’s if it’s all the same to you that is.”

“Well it isn’t.”

Phichit got out his radio and turned it on. A little light music would surely –

The man lowered his paper, reached out and turned the radio off. “And I’ll have that thing off, thank you.”

“What –” Phichit began.

“An elementary knowledge of the Railway Acts would tell you I’m perfectly within my rights,” the cross gentleman told him.

“But we want to hear it!” Phichit protested.

“I travel on this train regularly twice a week,” the cross gentleman declared, “so I suppose I’ve some rights.”

“Surely a little music never hurt anyone,” Yuuri said with a smile, trying to pacify the gentleman. He knew that they were both wondering the same thing in that moment: did the man recognize them and decide to take out his frustration on them, or was he just in a foul mood?

“Then I suggest you take that damned thing into the corridor or some other part of the train where you obviously belong,” the man declared, returning to his newspaper, as if this settled the argument.

“We’re travellers, same as you,” Phichit protested. “We paid for our seats, you know.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man. I fought the war for your sort.” The newspaper was lowered and very nearly tossed on the ground.

“I bet you’re sorry you won!” Phichit’s outburst would’ve brought a smile to Yuuri’s face, but he could see that this wasn’t going to end well.

The man threw a look at Yuuri and then made the mistake of looking at Chris.

“Give us a kiss,” Chris offered, leaning in.

The man shrunk back into his seat.

“Let’s just go somewhere else,” Yuuri said. He saw the expression on the man’s face and couldn’t help exclaiming. “It’s his train. Isn’t it, Mister?”

“I don’t see why we need to go,” Victor insisted.

“I’ll call the guard,” the man promised.

“Yes, but what?” Chris asked, leaning in again and chuckling as the man shrank further into his seat. “He doesn’t take kindly to insults, you know!”

Giving a sigh, Victor rose to his feet. “Let’s go. I don’t like this seat. It’s not comfortable.”

Yuuri breathed out a sigh of relief, but as soon as they got out of earshot of the sour gentleman Victor beckoned them all close and whispered. “I have an idea.”

Yuuri tensed. Victor’s ideas were always reckless. He leaned forward and listened, ready to argue against it.

Once Victor finished Yuuri looked into his eyes, as if waiting for his permission. Was it really bad to do something like this? Surely this was just a harmless prank!

Yuuri was all too aware that Victor’s puppy eye expression was making it hard to think, but he was only human.

“Oh, alright,” Yuuri agreed.

 

Mr. Smith was _not_ having a good day. Or, rather, his day had been the same as any other until those rude teenagers came along with their loud music and lack of respect for their elders. He tried to push them out of his mind as he read his paper. Now they were finally gone he would get some peace and quiet at last.

“Hey, Mister! Can we have our ball back?” The shout made him jump in his seat and look out the window where he saw those four troublemakers again, running after the train and knocking on the window. The train was going just slow enough for them to be able to run by its side.

“Mister! Mister! Can we have our ball back?”

Ball? What ball? He looked around him in alarm and then studied the window closely. Had they broken it without him noticing, or was it open? Seeing it was unbroken and closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief. There was no ball. It was nothing more than a prank.

“I will write a letter of complaint,” he muttered and raised the paper so he wouldn’t have to see them.

 

The prank complete, Victor led the way to the dining car.

Most of the tables were empty there, so they picked the first available one and ordered some coffee.

While they waited he watched Yuuri and let his mind wander.

“There you are!” a voice cut in and they looked up to see Yakov, their manager standing over them. “I searched half the train for you lot. I have your tickets here with me.” He pulled them out as proof of this. “Now look, I’ve had a marvellous idea. Just for once let’s all try to behave like ordinary respectable citizens. Let’s not cause any trouble, pull any strokes, or do anything I will be sorry for, especially tomorrow in that television theatre.”

Victor listened to them all agree and nodded numbly. It had been nothing but concerts and press conferences for three months straight. He wanted a holiday. He wanted…

He threw a quick glance at Yuuri and suppressed a sigh.

Yakov’s lecture went on and Victor wondered if there was any way to make him stop talking and leave.

Sweet Yuuri promised Yakov they would be on their best behaviour and finally the man got the hint and left.

Usually Victor laughed at people who followed the rules and respected authority and all that rubbish, but he would never laugh at Yuuri. He _couldn’t_ laugh at Yuuri. Forget not being able to laugh at him, he wished he could think of Yuuri as just another band member or a friend, like he thought of Phichit and Chris, but this was impossible.

It was especially impossible after nights spent writing new songs and arguing about lyrics, after nights spent listening to Yuuri sing love songs, putting his whole heart into them. And it really didn’t help that Yuuri had a voice that could charm rocks.

Every song they wrote together was about a love for some girl, but Victor wrote them with no girl in mind.

Who knew what Yuuri thought about when he wrote his love songs? He played a lovesick man so convincingly when he sang that it started rumours about a secret love, breaking the fans’ hearts and breaking Victor’s heart. And then the _other_ rumour came along…

Yuuri finished his coffee first and offered to go find them empty seats. Before Victor could say anything Phichit rose from his seat to join him and the two of them left together.

Victor watched them go with a sad look in his eyes.

“You’re right,” Chris said, startling Victor out of his reverie. “Why bother telling him anything?”

“Hm? What?”

“Yuuri Katsuki. Why tell him how you feel? You’ll only be rejected in the end, or worse – he might even like you and then you’ll have to deal with heartbroken fans sending you both nasty letters. Why bother when it’s much more fun to pine away and suffer?”

“Very funny,” Victor said dryly.

“And one day when you’re old and ugly and unwanted you’ll find out that he liked you all along. Won’t that be a laugh?”

Victor shook his head. “I won’t believe that. Besides,” he added, determined to explore the full horror of their situation, “I have no wish to be another one of Yuuri’s dates.”

“Ah yes, our dear Yuuri’s _dates_ ,” Chris added with a knowing grin. “Our Yuuri is so fickle.”

Almost every night after they finished a performance or a rehearsal Yuuri would slip away, telling everyone he had a date for that evening. Not really _telling_ , to be honest – Chris would tease it out of him and then he would ask what the lucky person was like and – here came the terrifying part – each time Yuuri would describe someone new.

Victor wondered about this. Of course Yuuri deserved the best, but did he really tire of them after just one date?

 _One night_ , his brain supplied treacherously.

Chris got up and Victor followed, feeling like the most miserable person on the planet.

They were band members, the best of friends. They would stick together through thick and thin and, surely, that was better than dating?

But a part of him insisted that no, it wasn’t.

The two friends went from car to car, looking in, startling the passengers, getting some excited screams from a few fans who happened to be on the train with them, but not finding Yuuri or Phichit anywhere.

“Do you see them anywhere?” Victor asked, wondering if he’d missed them somehow.

“Yes, I’m just following you for a laugh,” Chris shot back.

Victor opened his mouth, realized it was a joke and shut it hastily again. “Well, where are they, then?”

“Maybe Yuuri’s out on another one of his dates,” Chris supplied unhelpfully and waited for the reaction that was bound to follow.

Victor gave a resigned sigh. “I’m going to the luggage car.”

It was Chris’s turn to be surprised this time. “Why?”

“I… I forgot something.” He turned around and left before Chris could get him to admit that he was lying.

Only when Victor entered the car did it occur to him that it was the ideal place for anyone who had no wish to be seen, including people out on secret dates. He stepped forward carefully, peering into every dark corner. There was no one there.

He breathed out a sigh of relief.

Victor found a chair, but it wasn’t long before someone else came.

“They lock you away already?” a voice called.

Victor raised his eyes from the floor and saw Phichit come in, followed by Yuuri and Chris.

“Everywhere else is full,” Yuuri explained, taking a seat next to Victor.

“Or full of cranky old men,” Phichit added.

They gathered around Victor and exchanged smiles.

“What will we do now?” Phichit asked.

Victor tried to think of a way to impress Yuuri. He needed to do something daring. Maybe if they climbed onto the train’s roof –

“Here’s an idea,” Chris offered and pulled out a deck of cards.

It started off innocently enough, but got more heated as time went by. All of Victor’s troubles seemed to melt away as the game spiraled out of control. Pining, dates, friendships – everything was cast aside and forgotten in the mad fight to win.

“Mine! All mine!” Phichit exclaimed, pulling cards towards him as he won yet another round, making everyone laugh.

“It’s his lucky rings!” Chris explained.

Perhaps an argument would’ve followed that, but they could all feel the train slow down and rushed to the door, the game forgotten.

That was where Yakov found them.

“There you are! They’ve gone potty out there. The place is surging with fans, so this is what you’ll do.”

He explained, but Victor didn’t listen. His eyes were on Yuuri who had that serious expression on his face that suited him so well. Victor bit his lower lip and tried to resist the urge to lean forward.

“Got all that?” Yakov asked.

Victor shook his head, but the manager took it as one of Victor’s usual acts of defiance and ignored him.

The train stopped. The door opened. And they ran.

They ran for the first car they could see, but it was the wrong one, so they went in one door and out of the other and kept going as the fans piled behind the car in confusion. Victor saw the car that was waiting for them up ahead and sped up.

They were in the right car just in time to close the door in the face of the fastest fan.

The car drove slowly through a crowd that was all screams and hands reaching for the car. It was all so unreal – the fame, the popularity, the millions of fans going mad about them.

Victor knew that half of the newspapers called them the new age of music while the other half assured their readers that this new fad wouldn’t last, almost as if they hoped that people would read what they wrote, see the error of their ways and smarten up. Sometimes he wondered himself how long it would last.

He threw a look at Yuuri and saw the way his eyes shone with excitement. There was that spark of rebellion in him that Victor loved so well.

Yuuri met his eye and beamed.

 _Just kill me right here,_ Victor thought desperately.

 

The boys were in their hotel room each at their favourite pastime when Yakov came in to talk to them. Yuuri was at the piano, composing something with Victor by his side. Chris and Phichit were on the couch, exchanging jokes and teasing Victor.

Yakov rubbed his forehead and braced himself for the upcoming talk.

The door opened, interrupting him before he could even start, and a man came in with a pile of letters. He dropped them on the table and walked out to bring more.

Yuuri stopped playing and turned to take in the pile on the table. “What’s all this, then?”

“Letters from your fans,” the man explained, coming back with a second pile. “I have two more.”

“Never mind all that for now,” Yakov said. “They need you at the studio for a press conference, but when you return I want all these letters answered.”

He watched them head for the door, giving each of them a stern look. “And remember what I said on the train. Don’t act like a group of schoolboys!”

Victor grimaced at him and Yakov sighed. What was the use?

“Yuuri, you forgot your jacket!” Victor called and Yuuri stopped in the doorway. There was a moment of confusion that started with them getting tangled in the doorway and ended with Victor helping Yuuri into his jacket.

Yakov caught the look in Victor’s eyes and gave Yuuri a sharp look. This was the last thing he needed right now! One of the band members falling in love with another one was a catastrophe in and of itself, but for it to be Victor and Yuuri was even worse.

 

The press conference felt like a war with the press on one side and the four musicians – on the other. As soon as they’d entered the room, the musicians were pulled to different corners of the room to be questioned by different reporters.

“What do you call that collar?” one of the reporters asked Phichit.

Phichit gave her a puzzled look. “A collar. What do you call yours?”

Chris was surrounded by reporters on all sides, all of them trying to get the details of his personal life and all of them failing to do so.

A well-dressed woman cut in with a determined expression, “How do you like your girls to dress?”

Chris gave her a look and laughed as if she’d just told him a really funny joke. He gave no other answer.

A snobbish waiter walked by with a plate of sandwiches. Yuuri, feeling his stomach complain, reached out for a sandwich…

A reporter snatched it away before Yuuri’s fingers could touch it.

The questions went around in a circle.

“Is it true that Yuuri sees a new girl every day?” someone asked Victor and all he could do was give a sad sigh.

The rumour was spreading.

(Interestingly enough, the reporters misunderstood the sigh and an article appeared the next day, claiming that the other band members did their best to stop Yuuri, but all with no luck. Somehow the band never got wind of this article.)

“How did you find America?” a reporter asked Phichit, alluding to the group’s recent tour on that continent.

Phichit watched a waiter walk by with an empty tray. “Turn left at Greenland,” came his reply.

“Is it true that Yuuri sees a new girl every day?” This time the question was for Chris.

Chris gave them an enigmatic smile. “I don’t know. We’re just good friends.”

“Has success changed your life?” a reporter asked Yuuri.

Yuuri, too tired of the endless questions, didn’t think much about what sort of answer the reporter was expecting and gave a truthful one instead. “Yes.”

While the reporter grasped around for another question he threw a look across the room at Phichit. Phichit passed it along to Chris and Chris raised his eyebrows at Victor.

They ducked out of the crowd and slipped outside, mumbling something about a promise to see their manager.

“What a drag!” Chris complained as soon as they were out in the blissfully empty corridor. “And not so much as a single bite either.”

“Looks like we’ll have to go out on a hunt ourselves,” Victor said. “Lucky for you three, I know a good hunting ground.”

They followed him, exchanging jokes.

 

Evening descended on the city and all of the nightclubs came alive, filling with people and with music.

Victor sat at a table, listening to Chris chat up one of the boys he’d found. His own eyes were on the dancefloor where Yuuri was dancing with a girl.

“Go to him,” Chris said into his ear, startling Victor.

“What?”

“Go on. Get out of here.”

Victor rose to his feet, straightened his clothes, threw a look at Chris and headed for the dancefloor.

 

_I wanna be your lover, baby,_

_I wanna be your man._

Yuuri danced away, forgetting everything. It didn’t matter who was at his side as long as they kept up. In fact, he realized, he barely even looked at his partner.

Feeling embarrassed of himself, he looked at his partner and the smile on his face froze. The girl had vanished to be replaced by Victor.

 

This was a bad idea and he knew it, but he went along with it because he didn’t know how not to.

The song went on – his and Yuuri’s voices singing from a recording made at a different time, a happier time – but he stopped, seeing the expression on Yuuri’s face.

 _I knew it. You’d rather dance with someone else,_ he thought, feeling his heart fall.

The song went on relentlessly and people around them danced on as the two of them stood absolutely still like two small islands in a mad current.

“If you’re not going to dance,” someone grumbled, “then get out of the way. There are people here who want to have a good time!”

Victor stepped closer to Yuuri, but still he hesitated. Gathering all his courage he opened his mouth to invite Yuuri.

The song ended.

 _It’s not meant to be,_ a voice whispered treacherously in Victor’s mind. _Just accept it._

And the next song started.

_Before this dance is through_

_I think I’ll love you too._

_I’m so happy just to dance with you._

Taking this as his cue, Victor started to dance, giving Yuuri an encouraging nod.

The look on Yuuri’s face faded into a smile and he joined in.

 _I don’t want to kiss or hold your hand_ , the two of them insisted in the song,

_If it’s funny try to understand._

_There is really nothing I would rather do._

_I’m so happy just to dance with you._

They spun together and moved to the music, following every beat.

 _We wrote this song together,_ Victor thought. _We wrote so many songs together, but why hadn’t we danced together before?_

They were made for each other. If anyone ever doubted it, they could see it in the way they danced. Victor anticipated Yuuri’s every next move and followed along. He held out his hand just as Yuuri reached out for it and they moved together.

Three songs later they were still on the dancefloor, but this time they were dancing to a slow song.

Yuuri stepped up to Victor and put his arms on Victor’s shoulders.

And the rest of the world faded away.

_Bright are the stars that shine,_

_Dark is the sky,_

_I know this love of mine_

_Will never die._

“There you are!” A big figure burst onto the dancefloor, pushing past the dancers and making Yuuri back away from Victor. “I take my eyes off you for five minutes and you run away!”

It was Yakov. Of course it was. Who else would barge in at the worst possible moment and ruin Victor’s life?

The manager gathered all of them, stuck them in a car and took them back to their hotel, ignoring all their protests. Then he watched them write thank you letters to their fans until he decided they’d done enough for one night.

 

Victor lay in bed, unable to sleep. For a moment he thought there was something, a spark between them. Had Yuuri felt it? Would he look at Victor differently the next morning?

The answer, as it turned out, was no. Yuuri was the exact same the next morning and treated Victor the same way as always.

If only Yakov hadn’t barged in! If only Victor could’ve convinced Yuuri to go somewhere with him afterwards!

_But it would only have lasted one night!_

_Doesn’t matter. At least I’d have had one night. It’s better than nothing._

He gave short replies and barely spoke to anyone on their way to the studio. The world had it in for him and was determined to keep him in misery.

 

“What’s the matter with Victor?” Yuuri asked Phichit in a whisper as they waited for a dance number to end.

Phichit gave him a look that Yuuri failed to understand. “He’s sulking.”

And he really was. Victor sat down on one of the crates on the side of the stage with his arms draped over his knees and a lost expression on his face. He was in no state to perform even for a simple run-through. They needed to do something. But what?

Yuuri whispered as much to Phichit and waited for an answer. Phichit kept giving him an odd look that Yuuri had no way of interpreting.

“Sing,” Chris suggested, joining in on their whispered conversation. “When you sing it always cheers Victor up.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think the first number of the show will be good enough,” Chris said, as if he’d heard Yuuri ask a different question.

The dance number ended and the dancers left to be replaced by the band. Yuuri picked up his guitar, walked up to Victor and began to play.

_If I fell in love with you,_

_Would you promise to be true_

_And help me understand?_

_‘Cause I’ve been in love before_

_And I found that love was more_

_Than just holding hands._

He wasn’t sulking. He just wasn’t. He was too old for that kind of nonsense. Victor was just sitting on the stage, lost in thought, when Yuuri’s voice washed over him. He sat up straighter and felt the blood rise to his cheeks.

Yuuri stood over him, his guitar in his hands and sang, reminding Victor of their first meeting before the band had even formed.

No, he wasn’t singing. Yuuri was _serenading_ him. The thought made Victor’s knees tremble.

They all joined in then, except for Victor. Phichit was at the drums and Chris was playing his guitar, both of them singing with Yuuri, but all Victor could hear was Yuuri’s voice.

_If I gave my heart to you,_

_I must be sure_

_From the very start_

_That you would love me more than her._

The song lured him and he rose to his feet and picked up his guitar without thinking. But it was hard to join in, harder than ever before. His voice trembled as he tried to keep his feelings in check.

_If I trust in you, oh please,_

_Don’t run and hide._

_If I love you too, oh please,_

_Don’t hurt my pride like her._

They were just singing. It was just a song. His heart wasn’t beating faster in hope. It wasn’t.

_‘Cause I couldn’t stand the pain._

_And I would be sad if our new love was in vain._

They were eye to eye now. Wasn’t there a concert? Wasn’t there an audience? Did it matter? For one long, beautiful moment their voices were in perfect harmony with each other and everything felt just right.

The song ended and they held the last note, their eyes still locked.

There was a softness in Yuuri’s eyes he’d never seen before. No, Victor was just imagining it, but he held on to this fantasy.

“I think we need more drums,” Chris said.

Yuuri turned away.

The moment was broken.

“Yes, more drums!” Yuuri agreed and walked over to Phichit. “At the um… the um… the third bit. This bit.” He played it to demonstrate.

Victor breathed in slowly, put on his biggest smile and joined the conversation and the jokes.

“Very nice,” a man said, walking out towards them with an assistant tailing him. “What do you think?” he asked, turning around to show his assistant that his question was intended for her. “Makeup?”

“No, I think they are fine as is. Just a bit of powder and shine,” she said, giving them all a doubtful look.

“I’ll take them to the dressing room,” a new voice cut in and Yakov joined them all on the stage. “I’ll lock them up until you need them.”

Victor found that for the first time in his life the idea of being locked up in a room under Yakov’s watchful eye wasn’t as daunting as it used to be.

It was even less daunting when Yuuri caught his arm and pulled him aside to let everyone else pass before whispering, “Do you want to go out after the concert tonight? For… some dancing?”

Victor had to hold on to the wall to keep from falling over. “Y… Yes,” he said and nodded just in case Yuuri didn’t hear his answer.

Yuuri gave Victor a smile that would melt an iceberg and walked away.

 _It’s just dancing,_ he told himself. _Just for one night. Not a date. And even if it was a date, it wouldn’t last. No, it’s not a date. Just a dance. Just that. Besides, it’s a bad idea for band members to date each other._

He straightened himself and walked as nonchalantly as he could.

Chris fell back next to him right before they reached their dressing room. “What are you up to?” he asked in a whisper.

“Nothing,” he said and winced at the excitement in his own voice.

Chris elbowed him. “I hope to hear all about this “nothing” later.”

Victor didn’t promise anything. Maybe there would be something to tell after all.

His imagination taunted him with images of the best and the worst that could happen, making him blush and then turn pale. He watched Yuuri, trying to focus instead on him and his good looks.

The boy sat down in front of a mirror and brushed his hair.

“He’s doing it wrong,” Chris muttered.

Victor opened his mouth to say “What?” and caught himself right in time. He rose with a half-smile that was meant to cover up all his feelings and took the comb out of Yuuri’s hand. “You’re doing it wrong, Yuuri. Let me.”

Yuuri’s invitation to dance was making his head spin as if he’d downed an entire bottle of wine. Now he felt as if he could fight giants and win. Instead of that, he brushed Yuuri’s hair as the boy sat obediently in front of him. “Should I cut it short at the back and leave the sides?” he asked, imitating a barber.

Yuuri chuckled and picked up a magazine. “I leave myself in your capable hands.”

“And did sir have a lovely holiday?” He was about to do something stupid and he knew it, but there was no stopping him now.

“Oh yes, very… lovely.” Yuuri flipped a page of the magazine.

Victor put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper into his ear.

 

Yuuri let Victor brush his hair, trying not to think about anything. Had last night’s dance been some sort of prank? Had Victor guessed how he felt?

Victor leaned over Yuuri’s ear and Yuuri felt his heart stop. Here it was. He would find out now that it was just a prank and nothing more.

The door flew open and four stylists burst into the room. They pushed everyone apart, sat them down and tried to make everyone look presentable for the television.

“You won’t interfere with the basic rugged concept of my personality, will you, girl madam?” Victor asked the lady who was working away at his hair.

Yuuri suppressed a smile and threw a look at Victor. The man was grinning winningly at his reflection.

There was nothing rugged about his personality or appearance. Yuuri could see the stylist trying to come up with a good response that may have included those words and may not. At the other corner of the room Chris started to flirt with his stylist and his giggling drowned out what Victor’s stylist said.

Victor turned, spotted Yuuri looking and winked. He indicated the door with his eyes.

_We shouldn’t, we really need to stay behind and…_

But he could feel himself getting pulled in against his will. It was another of Victor’s mad ideas that had no way of ending well, but Yuuri found himself looking across the room at Phichit and trying to communicate with his eyes yet again.

They waited for the stylists to leave before ganging up on Yakov and, while Chris and Phichit distracted him with a stupid story, Yuuri and Victor slipped out and away.

“What are you stopping here for?” Victor asked as Yuuri found a good spot to wait for their friends to catch up with them.

“What about –?”

“Never mind them,” Victor said impatiently. “Why don’t we just go? The two of us?”

Yuuri reached out and took Victor’s hand and they were off.

Freedom! Freedom at last!

It didn’t take them long to get out of the stuffy building and into the fresh air. The sun beat down on them and Victor’s hand felt so warm in his. He could feel inspiration flow through him.

“Where do you want to go?” Victor asked.

“Let’s write a song,” the words slipped out of Yuuri before he could even stop and think. “That is, I think we should –”

Victor laughed.

“Look I know we need –” Yuuri tried a second time.

Victor pulled him close. “Music instruments, that sort of thing?”

He had an idea then, but he knew that Victor wouldn’t approve. Oh well, it was worth a shot. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” He saw Victor frown and felt himself warm up to the idea. “Yakov would never think of looking for us there,” he tried to smile as he said those words and saw by Victor’s face that he’d won.

 

 _One of these days_ , Yakov thought, _these four will kill me with their antics. No, not four,_ he amended mentally, _just Victor. It’s always Victor._

Never mind that he spent a good half hour trying to find Chris and Phichit, because he then spent a whole hour trying to find Yuuri and Victor. They were due to appear for the live broadcast in less than an hour when Yakov found them at last.

Who would’ve thought they would slip away only to return to the hotel to compose more songs?

Victor was sitting at the piano next to Yuuri. They were playing with one hand each and singing a new love song together. Even Yakov, despite all his anger, stopped to listen and didn’t dare interrupt them until they finished.

Perhaps it would’ve been better if he _had_ interrupted them before they finished.

Yuuri put his hand over Victor’s and looked into his eyes. “Does that sound right to you?” he asked softly.

“No, let’s try it again,” Victor murmured.

They were seated at the piano, fully dressed and composing music so why did Yakov feel as if he was intruding on something very intimate?

One of Victor’s hands slipped around Yuuri’s waist and Yuuri slipped closer.

Yakov cleared his throat meaningfully, making them both jump and jump away from each other. He didn’t listen to a word they said and demanded they follow him out without argument.

 

“Where are they?” the television director demanded from Chris and Phichit who were in the middle of a whispered conversation.

Chris opened his mouth to snap at the man and tell him to calm down when a door opened and Yakov led Yuuri and Victor in. “Where did you two get to?” he asked.

“We were in the hotel,” Yuuri admitted. His face turned red and he added, “C-composing a new song,” hastily.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“Ten minutes,” the director said, leaving them.

Yakov followed him out and the four singers found themselves alone on the stage.

“Did you tell him?” Chris whispered to Victor.

“What? Oh no,” Victor gave his friend a little smile. “But I wrote a song about it.” He thought about this. “With him,” he conceded.

Chris shook his head. “A pair of idiots, you two are.” He picked his guitar up and walked away.

Victor joined Yuuri at the front as Phichit sat down at the drums.

 _One day they will admit it_ , Chris told himself. _One day we’ll get the two of them in the same room, sit them down and force them to say the words._

 

Two albums full of love songs later Chris and Phichit decided the time had come for desperate measures. They had to get Yuuri and Victor to confess to each other no matter what it took, even if it meant tying their friends to chairs until they said the words.

They were on another train, speeding away towards another town and another concert.

Chris and Phichit exchanged a look.

“Alright, you two. Let’s have this out in the open,” Chris said. “I’m tired of all the sighs and hints.”

Yuuri and Victor looked equally puzzled at this.

“Do I have to say it for you?” Chris turned to look at Phichit and ruffled his hair so that, if you squinted, turned your head and looked at it in the right light it would remind you of Victor’s hairstyle. “Dear Yuuri,” he said in a voice that almost sounded like Victor’s, “I love you.”

Phichit put a hand to his heart. “Really, Victor?” he said in a voice that sounded nothing like Yuuri’s. “What a coincidence! I’ve been in love with you all this time as well!”

There was a pause as four people made eye contact with each other. Finally Yuuri and Victor burst out laughing.

Yuuri put his hand over Victor’s. “You were right: they fell for it completely!”

“Told you so, now didn’t you promise me something if I won our little bet?” Victor asked leaning towards Yuuri and rubbing his nose against the other man’s.

“Wait, how long has this been going on for?” Phichit asked, amazed to find that he’d somehow missed a happy romance happening before his very eyes.

“Ever since that television concert. What year was it again?” Yuuri asked as Victor’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer.

“ _Year_?” Phichit repeated in disbelief. “So, wait… When you said you were going out with someone you were meeting up with Victor in secret?”

“Not at the start, no,” Yuuri admitted and freed himself from Victor’s embrace. “Sorry, I’ve been lying to you all. They weren’t really dates, I just –”

The door opened and the sour gentleman walked in from several years ago.

“Here we go again,” Phichit muttered. “You know what? I think we have the right to stay here for once.”

But Yuuri was already getting up and opening the door.

“We need to buy our own train,” Victor said following him out.

“Wait, please!” the gentleman called after them.

They paused in the doorway and turned around to see the man hold up a photograph of the four of them. “It’s you, isn’t it? My daughter is a big fan. Can I trouble you for an autograph?”

**Author's Note:**

> You can watch the full movie [here](http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x493zd9) (until someone takes it down...)
> 
> Here are the songs I referenced (all of them are by the Beatles, of course):  
> [I Wanna Be Your Man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DNf1j5RYJI)  
> [I’m Happy Just to Dance with You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44YitKiVZ8E)  
> [And I Love Her](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nm4YlZ3oYsQ)  
> [If I Fell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6R2ytuLUJI)
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I hope to upload another one shot in the near future and then I have to finish up my wips (plot twist!).


End file.
